Ambush on Ihsir
The planet of Ihsir was home to some creatures and one UNSC outpost. This sad excuse of an outpost was famed for being as dead as a doornail. One dull afternoon, klaxons blared throughout the outpost, telling the Marines they’d finally get some action. As the alarms screamed, a lone SPARTAN-II was getting finished up in the showers. He shut the water off, grabbed a warm towel to scrub dry. Putting on his uniform pants and lacing up his boots, he decided he had no time left to grab his shirt, lives were at stake. Time was not on his side as he bolted through the base, sliding to a halt outside the armory. Striding out of the armory was a crimson-armored Elite Major who hissed, "Klaka zii…." The massive Spartan stood his ground, that Elite was going to be in a galaxy of hurt. With an understanding that this was his worst idea yet, Alaska roared, a clear challenge. As he roared, the Major drew his plasma rifle out, trying to get a clean shot at his adversary. After a minute, superheated plasma filled the air, the throat-rasping smell of ozone posed little more than an annoyance to Alaska. Time seemed to expand, slowing down everything around him, the flashes of plasma became sluggish bolts of light. As he ran towards the Elite, who stepped back to try and get more room, Alaska kicked off the wall from a dodge. All of time got seemed to get even slower from his point of view until he slammed into the Elite. With a sharp grunt, both combatants hit the floor, now it was a brawl. Alaska got one powerful hand on his opponent’s helmet. Without thought, he wrenched it’s neck to the left violently. Now the major was dead on the floor, offered a chance for Alaska to get to the armory. As he approached the doorway, an explosion sent him backwards, "Shit, that complicates things." Now that he couldn’t get his armor - or a weapon for that fact, it meant he had to take the Elite’s plasma rifle. Snatching the rifle from the dead alien’s hand, Alaska took off, following the distant sounds of gunfire and screams; several corridors later, he found the firefight. The few surviving ODSTs, and one Hospital Corpsman, were hunkered down behind rubble. A team of Elites kept them pinned, no one dared lift their heads over the concrete debris. They turned, glancing over their shoulders when the Elites shifted their firing angle. Standing behind them was a massive soldier, a Spartan! One soldier was confused as to why he wasn’t wearing his armor, “Sir? Where’s your armor?” He got no answer from the Spartan, who wasted no time taking charge. The medic watched, a bit stunned that a Spartan was just as terrifing out of armor as they were in it. He had never seen any of the near-mythical super soldiers outside of their armor. To the extent he thought they were not alive, but machines. The Elites focused on Alaska, trying to take him down. Plasma whizzed over the heads of the soldiers hiding behind the rubble. It was a match of alien technology against Spartan power. Only one Ultra fell to the ground from the shoot-out before Alaska had drained the weapon’s powercell. With a resigned sigh, he threw the weapon at the Elites, one of whom was hit in the head with the powerless weapon. That only further angered one Ultra, who was the Lance leader. He barked an order at the others, who stood down and stepped aside. Alaska muttered, "I need a weapon, again." An ODST nervously handed him a combat knife, at which he sighed but took it. He stepped over the debris, staring down the Ultra, the honorable Reff ‘Vadamee. As the ODSTs and medic watched in a mixture of fear and hope, Alaska smiled at Reff. It was that thin, confident smile, Alaska had a plan. At that, the Ultra drew his energy sword, hitting the trigger and the blades flared to life. Alaska jumped backwards, landing with enough force to send up a small dust cloud. He stood up, and now the ordinary soldiers behind him had a good chance to see the raw muscle power of a SPARTAN-II in action. They watched as the two soldiers faced off, Reff was fast, but Alaska managed to stay just beyond his reach. Reff lunged, leaving Alaska barely enough time to twist out of the way. He felt the heat of the blades mere inches from his chest; this was serious. It was a dance, a dangerous one at that. Flipping the combat knife in his grip so he could stab Reff if possible, Alaska threw a mock punch. Yet Reff knew the trick, slashing across Alaska’s torso; who felt a sharp burning pain across his stomach. Alaska grit his teeth, ignoring the pain, and kept fighting. Without hesitating, he ran towards Reff who brought his blade up to decipitate Alaska, only to have the Spartan slide under his swing. A second too late, the other Ultras to realize Alaska was behind their leader and in front of them. “Gro’gragort!” One shouted, only to fall, a sizzling plasma burn between his eyes. The remaining two were stunned to see the demon had gotten their leaders’ plasma pistol away from him. Reff heard the shot go off, turning sharply to face Alaska. Silence descended on the hallway as neither one made moves to attack. It ended with Alaska kicking Reff, sending him staggering backwards. The Ultras didn’t shoot, they knew the trouble that would result from mistakenly shooting their commanding officer. As Alaska went to finish off his opponent, Reff froze, only to kill the ODST who had crept out from cover. As soon as the soldier was dead, the Ultra took off, barking orders at his subordinates who followed suit, fleeing. The fight was over...but the war had only just begun. Epilogue Two hours after Master Chief Petty Officer Alaska oh-one-three and the survivors left Ihsir, the planet was glassed.